


Mask Off

by TheResurrectionist



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alley Sex, Clark really needs to deal with his issues, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Shameless Smut, SuperBat, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, bottom!bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 16:31:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12586040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheResurrectionist/pseuds/TheResurrectionist
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Happy Birthday, Bays!!!! <3





	Mask Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BatShitCrazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatShitCrazy/gifts).



> *waves hands at fic* HAPPY BIRTHDAY BAYS! The promised wall sex fic is finally here. Forgive me.

He can hear Bruce's heartbeat, six blocks ahead of him. Any closer, and the other man would spot him. Even this far away, Clark still had his doubts. Maybe he'd picked up on him--maybe he hadn't. He prayed it was the latter.

The sound of blood rushing in his ears is his, mingled with the furious pounding of the other man's heart.

_He's nervous,_ Clark thought, ducking into a doorway as Bruce glanced behind him. He shivered at the thought.  _Maybe he spotted me._

He could hear Bruce's hand grasp the doorknob, pushing his way into a bar up the block. A quick scrape of boots across hardwood reached him, and then the slide of a barstool.

The other man's heartbeat was a drum in Clark's ears; he fell into step at its tempo, lost in thought.

He ducked into the alley before he followed the other man any further. There was sickly shame in his stomach, churning as Bruce's scent burned in his nose.

The brick was cool. He pressed his head backwards, waiting. The wall was overlaid with the sheen of dirt and grease he could only describe as  _New York._

_Why here? Why tonight?_

He could hear Bruce's breaths, carefully measured. The other man ordered whiskey from the bartender, his voice a soft murmur under the music.

There was a soft laugh and a pause. A moment later, a bar stool slid across the floor. Clark's head snapped forward as a second heartbeat spiked, just to the billionaire's left.

Bruce's voice echoed a second later, politely amused--a perfect imperfection of calm. He could imagine the other man, his head tilted, baring his throat. Suave and undeniably charming...

The stranger laughed, a rush adrenaline hitting his bloodstream. Bruce joined him a moment later, his laugh a rich rumble that vibrated under Clark's skin.

They ordered a second round.

A third round; more laughter, this time, something charged running underneath it. How could he smell Bruce from here? Somehow, it was possible.

Clark's hands shook, trembling as he gripped the brick behind him. He couldn't have moved if he wanted.

He listened as the stools were pushed back, a pair of footsteps moving towards the back door. He heard Bruce's muffled question--could imagine the dark smile on his face--and backed into the shadows, his heart aching.

The door to the alley swung open, the smell of sweat and smoke drifting towards him. Bruce pushed the stranger towards the wall without hesitation, the anger he was hiding so carefully, so tightly, clear in his motions.

The stranger was young. He hit the wall with his back, closing his eyes briefly at the impact. Bruce stepped between his legs, grabbing his jaw before either could speak.

Clark hissed under his breath as their mouths met. The pounding tempo of their hearts drowned the noise out. Bruce pressed the stranger against the brick in a cruel pantomime of his earlier stance, digging the man's head into the wall.

There was nothing but a dumpster between them. He could practically taste the arousal on Bruce's skin--when he'd only sensed distrust earlier, a formal sort of disinterest he wanted to break apart.

The stranger let out a strained gasp, Bruce's hand curling down the front of his pants. Their breathing hitched in tandem. The stranger got a hand between Bruce's legs, stroking him through his jeans.

_I bet he's so hard,_ Clark thought, unable to tear his eyes away, the thought thrilling him.  _I bet he's so fucking hard right now._

Dark hair disappeared into the shadows as the stranger knelt. His hands reached for the billionaire's zipper.

A moment later, Bruce's face went slack, his arm braced against the alley wall. His fist clenched, then relaxed, knuckles scraping the rough brick, unfeeling.

Clark looked down, shifting himself in his pants as the pressure between his legs grew. He could imagine every inch of this, and it wouldn't have been the same as what was before his eyes.  _Had_ imagined this many, many times--only to realize how horrifically disappointing those fantasies had been.

Bruce was so quiet, still so reserved, tightly coiled to the point of insanity. His breaths were nearly silent; a soft, hitching inhale, almost a gasp, was the only indication. The stranger's head bobbed up and down, hypnotically slow.

After another minute, they pulled apart. There was a feverish look in the stranger's eyes, something in between awe and desire. He tugged at Bruce's pants, pulling them down entirely.

Clark felt himself go rock-hard as Bruce was pressed against the wall, forehead against the brick. The curve of his neck was sinful in the light, bent down as the stranger aligned their legs. He was  _letting_ the other man take control--

The stranger was breathing quickly now, his heartbeat thundering in Clark's ears. A wave of jealousy hit him--a blistering sort of anger thudding through every vein as Bruce allowed himself to be touched. Allowed himself to be _moved_ \--

Bruce's face tightened as the stranger put the first finger in, still pressed against the brick. He rocked back slightly, getting a soft murmur in return. A second finger, and this time Bruce's face went slack, a soft moan escaping his lips. It echoed down the alley.

" _Again,_ " he whispered to the stranger. " _Now_."

Clark imagined his own fingers, curled up inside of the other man, and shuddered. He imagined how Bruce would take it--that soft, beautiful gasp as he pushed up and down, over and over again, giving him the smallest amount of friction until it was almost unbearable...

The stranger seemed to be on the same train of thought. His fingers flexed, thrusting into the billionaire in slow pumps, dragging against him until Bruce's breathing became erratic again.

Clark barely paid attention as a condom was unwrapped, too caught up in his own fantasy. He palmed himself in a daze, unsurprised to find himself hard and aching. Bruce would take it. Bruce would be so good--

Across the alley, the billionaire let out a soft moan. The stranger pushed up into him, lifting on his heels until they were pressed against the wall. Without a word, he began thrusting into the billionaire, hands braced on the other man's hips.

Bruce was panting against the bricks.

Clark jerked himself, watching those beautiful lips purse. His face was screwed up in pleasure, eyes shut as each thrust pushed him further up the wall. Taking it, taking it...

_So fucking good,_ Clark thought, listening to the tiny gasps the billionaire tried to repress,  _let it all out. Don't be quiet, don't you fucking dare--_

The stranger changed angles, grabbing Bruce by the hair. The billionaire let out a surprised moan, letting himself be pulled backwards. His heart rate spiked with pleasure.

_Close,_ Clark thought, watching Bruce's face intently,  _you're close--_

" _Ah_ ," Bruce moaned, pushing backwards, his hands scrabbling at the brick blindly. "Ah ah  _ah ah--_ "

The stranger pressed his face to the billionaire's neck, his hips thrusting upwards, over and over and over again. Bruce let out a low moan, trembling as his face went slack.

Clark could hear him coming--could actually feel the sensation in the air, the release of heat, the neurons firing. He watched the other man's face intently, careless.

Bruce's eyes flew open, pupils blown. Clark met his gaze without thinking. They locked eyes for a terrible, drawn-out second. The alley disappeared as he came against his hand, Bruce's moans echoing in his ears.

Shame flooded him as he opened his eyes again, chest heaving. The stranger came against Bruce with a bit-off groan, his face pressed to the billionaire's neck.

And Bruce-- _Bruce._ God. His eyes were slightly dazed. His hair was rumpled, curling across his face. Pressed against the bricks, he met Clark's gaze again, a distant rage written across his face.

" _Leave_ ," Bruce muttered, venom threading his voice. The rage, the  _betrayal_ in his eyes, was enough to chill him. " _Now_."

"What'd you say?" the stranger muttered, pressing a sloppy kiss to the billionaire's neck.

Clark tucked himself in, stepping towards the mouth of the alley. A kind of irrevocable  _wrongness_ filled him.

_You fucked up,_ he thought, eyes burning,  _you fucked up._

"What?" Bruce said, as he leapt into the sky, "I didn't say anything."

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Leave me a comment and let me know what you thought!


End file.
